


but today is a gift

by Sharkchimedes



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Stakar & Yondu spend the whole thing disagreeing in the background, also brief flash forward to end of vol2 with canon divergence, and marty's not just gonna stand there and listen to other adults fight, brief amounts of headcanons typical to me, brief canon typical language, peter's a kid and they run into stakar and martinex, so he and peter go bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-31 08:41:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20790260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sharkchimedes/pseuds/Sharkchimedes
Summary: Martinex had just wanted a brief break from his busy schedule, so when he and Stakar finally take an afternoon off, of course they run into Yondu. And Yondu's kid.Or: Martinex leave Yondu and Stakar arguing in a field and meets his nephew for the first time, and hold the first official meeting of the "Terran System Expats Only" Club.





	but today is a gift

**Author's Note:**

> this is one of those ficlets that you write in a three day flurry with no real reason or motivation other than it's what the muse wanted, so here it is. enjoy!

When Martinex woke up this morning, Stakar had pulled him aside and told him they were taking the  _ Diamond Dust _ for a little jaunt off the  _ Starhawk _ because if he had to mediate the conflict between the 87th and 56th for another minute, he was going to just hand the whole lot over to the nearby 42nd and let them handle it. 

So he’d gotten dressed and they’d taken a couple dozen jumps to get away to a little backwater planet that wasn’t crawling in danger or Nova officers. Just a normal, ordinary planet. 

Oh, and then they’d run into Yondu Udonta. 

And what looked like a seven year old. 

Predictably, Stakar and Yondu had seen each other and started at it immediately, and Martinex ended up leaned against a tree, deciding how much trouble he’d get in for calling Aleta down on them both. 

That train of thought was swiftly interrupted by an exclamation that came from his right.

"You're a Ravager too!" Martinex followed the kid's pointed finger down to the golden flame carefully - he'd say  _ reverently _ if it wasn't for how he'd rubbed the tarnish off rubbing at it - pressed into the black leather of his jacket.

"Sure am!" Martinez carefully tugged his glove free, and stooped down to offer Peter his hand. It was his right hand- the side he could control fire with. He found that most sentients preferred something warm enough to register as "alive" when shaking, and he didn't want to scare the kid, so he consciously thought about how warm it ought to be. "Name's Marty."

Second thing most sentients liked was names at a meeting, fake or not. Martinex wasn't going to scare or confuse the kid by saying  _ "Martinex T'Naga, first mate of the Starhawk and one of the seven Flames." _ Not when he was curious, and the kid currently represented the only escape from the argument going on ten feet away.

The kid seemed to consider his hand for a minute, probably thinking through whether or not he should answer. When Yondu didn't seem to be looking at him, he must have decided it was alright, because he took Martinex's hand and firmly shook both it and nodded his head. "Peter." 

"Nice to meet you, Peter." Martinex smiled. It was pretty easy to ignore his current boss and friend and his former friend and- brother? Best friend? Whatever - arguing behind him when he was meeting his former-who-know's kid.

"You really  _ are _ rock…" Peter breathed, gently pushing Martinex's fingers at the joints.

It had been a good long while since Martinex had met anyone that well and truly  _ marveled _ at that. 

Most people Martinex interacted with on a routine basis were a: the crew of the  _ Starhawk _ , who were very aware that Martinex was a Pluvian; b: members of other Ravager clans, who also were pretty aware of that fact; or c: clients, agents outside the clans the Ravagers affiliated with, and the like, who again knew who he was because when you worked with Stakar like he did, your reputation precedes you by star systems.

Really, he didn't know that anyone had actually been openly curious and unfamiliar with his biology like this since before he'd ever joined the Ravagers and just been an orphan in a shithole Nova colony. Most strangers just saw the flame and knew to  _ look the other way _ .

Martinex had to admit, it was kind of nice. He didn't usually get anybody thinking he was cool just because he was Pluvian, even people who found "rare and endangered species" interesting. Usually it was  _ only _ because he was a Ravager, and a Flame at that.

He watched Peter keep messing with his hand, before the boy curiously looked up at him, still holding it. "Do you have blood?"

"Not the same as yours, but I do." Martinex pointed at the thin lines that ran just below the surface of his skin. "Clear, for one thing." 

Peter seemed to be squinting, trying to find what he was pointing at. Which was fair- above his variegated inner stuff were decades worth of old hairline fractures from injuries and scuffs and the like. It wasn’t like just looking for the faint outline of veins on a Xandarian. He hadn't polished himself in a while, not having an event to necessitate it, but it did make things harder now. 

Course, when he and Stakar headed out for this backwater a few hours ago to temporarily escape from managing the fleet, he hadn't expected they'd been running into Yondu. He might’ve tried to look more put together if he’d known this was the first time they’d see him in about eight years. 

Speaking of Yondu...

Martinex glanced over his shoulder to see Stakar and Yondu were still in the middle of their “professional differences”, as would probably get explained to Peter later. Which meant Stakar was angry because Yondu wasn't supposed to be out here, and now there was a  _ kid _ , and wasn't that funny because of what happened with  _ Ego, _ and Yondu'd be defending himself with whatever explanation he had, and they'd go on like this till one of them got fed up and stormed off.

Or punched somebody. Or whistled the other through because he knew that if he was carefully, it wouldn't do any more than scar.

Peter didn't need to see all that. And besides- he didn't really want to stick around for all of the back-and-forth either. Yeah, what had happened in the past  _ was _ wrong and Martinex would never feel ashamed in the knowledge he'd been one of the first to lay down his vote, but it had been eight years. He'd gotten tired of it being hashed out again and again.

So he decided to do the only natural thing: get himself and Peter outta the line of fire.

“Hey.” Martinex said, bouncing out of his crouch and back onto the balls of his feet. When nether Stakar nor Yondu reacted, he sighed and cleared his throat. “ _ Hey! _ ”

When that still didn’t get their attention away from arguing, Martinex decided to do the riskier but more surefire thing and took a calcium cube from his pocket, aimed, and chucked it at Yondu’s crest.

It hit with a faint and metallic  _ thwack! _ and a flare of bright red up the yaka as Yondu turned on his heels to glare at Martinex. Stakar followed his gaze and frowned at Martinex, clearly having taken the situation to now be  _ dangerous, do I need to get Marty? _

He quickly flashed the sign for  _ clear _ with his left hand before he said, “Right, so I’m taking Peter down to town for a snack or something. I didn’t waste fuel and risk getting my ship pitted in atmo to  _ not _ go get a nice bite.” He glanced back at Peter, relieved when the kid seemed to be just curious- maybe even excited- at the idea, and not running back to Yondu like he’d tried to snatch him.

Which he wasn’t planning to do- if Stakar decided that Yondu couldn’t be trusted, that was another matter, but Martinex was more focused on not letting the poor kid get swept into their dispute when it inevitably worsened. And it was pretty obvious that Yondu had probably had the same idea they had- escaping from dealing with crew for a bit.

'Sides, if Yondu had taken in the kid, that made them family, estranged or not. He'd like to get more than a brief impression.

Yondu glared at him for a minute, seemingly considering putting his arrow through Martinex’s head, before he gave ground. “Fine. If he pulls anything, brat, stab him.” 

Peter nodded at this. Martinex was momentarily alarmed by the idea that Yondu had given the kid a knife, except it probably  _ hadn’t _ been Yondu, and either way most metal would just break off on too much contact with his skin anyway.

Stakar squinted at Yondu. Then he gave Martinex a nod of approval. Boss probably wanted him to work it out from the source himself how he’d ended up with the failed 99th clan, and it wasn’t like Martinex did any good standing fifteen feet away in an argument anyhow. 

Martinex turned back to Peter and offered him his still-ungloved right hand. “Up for a little adventure?” 

* * *

Peter had ended up taking Martinex’s hand, and the two had left the bickering admiral and captain behind. When he’d asked to see Peter’s knife, he’d produced a small blade that was mostly dull and had something scratched into blade in what looked like Hraxian. At least Kraglin hadn’t given the kid something he could hurt himself on.

It was probably more for the threat and show, anyway. Martinex was getting the feeling that when he’d been thinking of Peter as “Yondu’s kid”, he may have been more right on that than  _ just  _ Peter being a resident of the  _ Eclector _ . If his growing hunch was right, Peter wouldn’t have much use for a real knife when any danger he might get into would have a yaka arrow and a much bigger and sharper  _ experienced _ knife following close behind.

Most of the way to the town, Peter had a pair of orange muffs on that Martinex realized were connected into a small player of some sort, and he quietly hummed along as they walked. 

“ _ How _ are you rock?” Peter asked all of a sudden, looking up at Martinex with a thoughtful frown. He seemed to be trying to, for the moment, figure out how his eyes looked they way the did. He still hadn’t let go of the Pluvian’s hand, and was lightly pushing at Martinex’s fingers with his thumb.

Martinex, who had paid  _ far  _ less attention to the majority of Stakar’s rambles on Pluvian physiology than the admiral probably thought he had (Stakar was never finished hunting down new information, and his pet project was compiling all he could on those he considered to be “family”), shrugged. “Suppose my ancestors decided being rock was better than freezing. Like how Yondu’s got all friendly with yaka so as to have arrows.” 

"Yondu's a Cen-taur-ian" Peter slowly sounded out the word, before nodding. "That's why he's blue."

Martinex was impressed- even if Peter knew what Yondu was, he hadn't expected him to know the right way to pronounce it. There were people he worked with that couldn't. "Sure is. And I'm rock because I'm Pluvian." 

Peter looked at him curiously, and Martinex could practically see the gears turning as he tried to work that out. Centaurian is to Centuari as Pluvian is to…

"Pluto." Martinex added when Peter finally frowned, chuckling. "Don't feel bad- most people don't know it." Between the Kree invading and the Nova blocking the whole system off later, most didn't. Charlie was the only one who knew besides Stakar, and that didn’t count seeing as he was  _ Jovian _ .

So he was shocked when Peter gasped and his eyes lit up and the kid declared, "We're neighbors!"

Martinex blinked. "We what?"

"I'm from Earth!" Peter beamed, and went digging in his pockets, producing a keychain of a blue and green globe. The kid carefully deposited it into Martinex’s right hand. 

Martinex stared at it. He'd thought the kid was Xandarian.  _ Maybe _ Hraxian, since Kraglin was still with Yondu and it was pretty obvious taking some interest in keeping the kid alive. Maybe one of a few dozen other humanoid Xandarian-adacent or Xandarian-convergent species.

Stakar was gonna actually murder Yondu this time.

_ How _ and  _ why _ had he gotten past the Nova blockade? 

Charlie would think this was a hoot if Martinex told him. If the man was any better at keeping secrets, he’d probably comm him right now and tell him and let Peter talk to him. Terra system species had to stick together after all. Peter’d probably think Charlie was just about as cool as he thought Martinex was. And neither of them had known a Terran since… well, since Astro had died. 

(Martinex hadn’t thought about the former seventh flame in years. Had it really been sixty years since that whole mess? Since the Ravagers had gotten started for the big leagues? Felt like less… and more, all at once.)

In the end, what he said was, “Huh, what’dya know. Two of a kind, that makes us!” and carefully passed the globe back to Peter. “Now, you take care of that.”

Peter nodded and returned the keychain to his pocket. Martinex wondered for a moment just how much stuff he had from Terra. At least the little bit of tech and the trinket, which Martinex was glad for. Even if he had decided a long time ago that he didn’t much care about Pluto, that didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate other people keeping bits of their heritage. 

Martinex decided he'd better just bite the bullet and hope it didn't explode like a leaking plasma cart. "So how long you been a ravager?"

Peter seemed to think for a minute, before he answered. "Always. Except pa says I'm not one till I'm old enough for a gun." Then he frowned. "I'm not supposed to call him pa to people." 

"I won't tell." Martinex quickly promised, trying to work out if he was talking about Yondu or Kraglin. "So if you aren't out on missions, what do you do?"

This seemed to be a happier topic and Peter started off on a long flood of an answer. "Mostly I help pa! Which is mostly just keeping out of the way or helping remember things. And then the learning part. Tullk’s showing me how to plot navigation.”

“So you like the  _ Eclector _ , then?” Martinex asked. 

Peter nodded. “Yeah! Sometimes crew gets mean or I have to scrub the bogs for a month,” Peter looked very annoyed by that, but just in the way a kid would in trouble, “but it’s home. I’ve never known anything else. And I like my parents.”

Martinex had to resist being obvious with his relief. If he could tell Stakar that the kid was fine and happy and  _ definitely _ under protection, then Stakar would be liable to let the matter rest. He just wouldn’t mention the bit about him being Terran- wouldn’t hurt anybody.

And then they hit the town proper, and Martinex pushed all the now dying concern aside. “Now, the fun bit of the day.”

Peter looked all around them, clearly familiar with this sort of place but likely unused to being the one calling the shots. Martinex made another sweep of the eyes to check for any local sort of police before he decided to  _ really _ let the kid loose.

“Go wild, little guy.” Martinex handed Peter his credit stick and nudged him in the direction of a vendor who seemed to be selling some sort of sweets, rustling around in the same pocket to withdraw a decent chit to get himself some sort of sweet ice. It was a personal project; he tried different takes on ice snacks, and then tried to replicate it using his Pluvian ice-making abilities. Some were more successful than others.

This particular purchase tasted a bit fruity, and Martinex worked through it as Peter ate some sort of floss-spun sugar.

For the next little bit, Martinex kept an eye on Peter as he wandered around, ignoring the occasional questioning looks that came with “fleshy sentient and non-fleshy sentient. Apparently he’d wanted to find little bits and bobs, because Peter kept stopping when he spotted shiny things.

Like father like son, Martinex guessed.

At once point, Martinex had to flash one of his numerous fake identification cards to a knife vendor because Peter decided a knife was a great idea that day. He knew Kraglin would like it, though, when he looked at it, and the vendor seemed less concerned with validating Martinex’s identity as making sure the seven year old didn’t have a real blade.

(Martinex slipped it back into Peter’s bag  _ after _ he’d wrapped it with a bit of cleaning leather-cloth from a belt pouch. And a quickly copied disk of old vids he had from the old days, back when Yondu was still a half green recruit. He kept them on his 'pad so that no other top level command codes could accidentally find it and accuse him of anything, and he figured Peter'd like them.)

As they wandered, Peter seemed to realized he’d done a lot of talking about his life and where he was from, so he started pestering Martinex with questions about the  _ Starhawk _ and Admiral Ogord and what “Flame” meant and the like, which pretty much confirmed for Martinex that Yondu hadn’t told Peter anything about the other Ravager clans. Most of what he’d picked up was either stuff like the Code, or clearly overheard in bits and pieces from crew who didn’t know he was listening or didn’t fear Yondu’s wrath if he knew they’d been talking.

He answered carefully, trying to avoid giving him too much but still enough that Peter didn’t think he was lying or withholding most of it from him. Mostly he compared life on a bigger galleon- the  _ Starhawk _ was after all, one of the largest ships in the fleet- to that on the  _ Eclector _ , and how inner clan things worked and the like. When Peter asked why Martinex didn’t seem to do any managing for the 99th, Martinex just mentioned the deep space clans that rarely checked in.

He’d let the kid draw his own conclusions from there, and thankfully, he seemed to decide the  _ Eclector _ was like that and not some sort of weird outlier.

* * *

Martinex checked his chrono and found that several hours had gone past now, which no call from Stakar or plumes of smoke in the distance. That was a good sign. And as much fun as giving little treats to Peter was, Martinex  _ did _ have a job to get back to, and a boss to make sure was still in one piece. And apparently, his former-best-friend-now-Peter’s-dad to check on too. “Pa” was Kraglin, and there’d been another tangent about Yondu in between explaining how Pluvians didn’t have the same jump restrictions as mushy people did, which had involved Yondu doing something stupid with the  _ Warbird _ .

So he stopped by a vendor on the way out of town to procure a bag of fish jerky as an apology for ditching his boss, snatched some old dusty book off a windowsill, and made sure that he and Peter weren’t being followed as they left town.

Peter walked beside him, this time not holding hands because the kid had a small bag of his own purchases- half off Martinex’s credit stick, and the rest from credit chits that he’d surprised Martinex by producing from the pocket in the lining of his jacket. 

The kid chattered the whole way back, mostly things about life back on the  _ Eclector _ now that he’d told Martinex about most of the people he knew. Apparently Kraglin had showed him the basics of m-ship care, using mostly the  _ Mollymauk _ , and from what Martinex was getting, most of the crew that had originally left the  _ Starhawk _ when the 99th had started was still around. At least the brass, anyway. Peter seemed to spend most of his time with either Kraglin or Tullk, which made sense as Yondu was captain and therefore busier. 

That’d been a bit like how Martinex had worked back when Yondu had been new to the  _ Starhawk _ . Yeah, Stakar had handled most of the teaching, but he was already managing about seventy other clans at the time, and even an immortal celestial-adjacent couldn’t do it all at once. 

Least Peter seemed to be less a terror with his babysitter than Martinex and Yondu had been. There were still marks seared into several corridors back home, and part of why Martinex had got his precious m-ship was because the last one… hadn’t survived it’s first encounter with Yondu.

Yondu had never set  _ foot _ in the  _ Diamond Dust _ . When Stakar had made Martinex and Yondu take a solo together as one of the last captaincy tests, they’d taken a stock m-ship while Stakar and Kraglin used Marty’s ship for their own excursion.

The stock one hadn’t lasted either. Only m-ship Yondu messed with that  _ had _ was the  _ Warbird _ , which miraculously survived near in one piece through all of Yondu’s pilot and upper brass years and then into captaincy _ . _

And the  _ Mollymauk,  _ apparently.

“So you don’t like rations, huh?” Martinex teased when Peter got to the subject of food.

The kid stuck out his tongue. “They taste like  _ dirt _ . And food shouldn’t be  _ cubes _ .” 

“I’ll have you know I eat cubes!” Martinex laughed, shaking his head. He didn’t know what dirt tasted like, but he’d be willing to argue that protein cubes were worse than ration ones. 

“Why do you eat  _ cubes _ ?” Peter looked horrified at the thought. “Did you get grounded or something?”

He shook his head. “Nah, what I eat keeps my body from fallin’ apart. Takes a lotta calcium to look this shiny. Gotta stay healthy if I wanna stay in my place.” 

The kid still seemed a degree of mortified, but also took a minute to ponder this. “Kraglin says that I have to eat the bitter stuff so I don’t get sick. I don’t think anyone but him likes it though.”

“He still eat whole fruits in one go? Scared the hell outta more than one rookie doing that.” Martinex shook his head. “Stakar can do one better with fish, but at least fish don’t taste like hull cleaning acid.”

“They  _ do _ taste like hull cleaner! And smell like it too!” Peter agreed emphatically, nodding. 

The debate on food went on for a couple more minutes, and ended up mostly being about what sweet things Peter liked and how some of the snacks other ravagers liked were nasty. Then they came back up the hill they’d left the admiral and captain on.

Stakar and Yondu seemed… not agreeable, but they weren’t yelling any more. In fact, Stakar was sat down by the front foil of the  _ Diamond Dust _ , typing away at something on his wrist. Yondu stood about ten yards away whittling something into a tree with the point of his arrow.

Peter took off for Yondu in a flash, now directing his stream of chatter at the Centuarian, something about Martinex being cool and why hadn’t Yondu told him there were  _ other _ ravagers and treats-

Yondu shot Martinex a withering look that seemed less blameful and more  _ now look what you did, now he’s got fodder and fuel _ , and was even more strangely tinted with a… fond exasperation. It was certainly the most tolerant Yondu had looked at him.

Stakar stood when he realized they had returned, and crossed over to Martinex, stretching with a flash of solar wing out of his back. Martinex saluted and handed the bag of jerky over, which Stakar took. 

Martinex was just about ready to ask Stakar if he was ready to leave, and figure out a polite way to say goodbye to Yondu and Peter without starting anything up again, when Peter yelled, “Marty!” over to him.

Peter darted back to Martinex and looked expectantly up at him, cupping something in his hands. Martinex dropped to one knee and offered his hands, and wondered if he was about to receive some sort of small insect. 

It wasn’t an insect.

Peter carefully deposited something round into his hand, with a soft clink, before he dashed back to Yondu, hiding around the Centaurian captain's side.

It was a small grey sphere, probably cut and polished from some stone local to the planet. It was the sort of trinket that one saw at most outposts, and had a dangling silver chain and ring attached.

“It’s Pluto!” Peter called back to him.

Martinex had to try pretty damn hard to  _ not _ look like he’d just been handed probably the nicest thing since Stakar had lobbed his credit stick at him and told him to find an m-ship with whatever bells and whistles he wanted, friendships and such not included. Sure, he was a ravager, and had pretty sizeable resources and a small hoard of things he’d  _ mostly _ stolen. 

“I will protect this with my  _ life _ .” He declared, before carefully clipping it onto the ring of keys he kept on his belt. And then sent up a silent thanks to whatever force designed Pluvians that meant that he didn’t cry.

Stakar gave him an incredulous look, and Yondu seemed… more confused than anything. Then the Centuarian 

(Years later, and a little while after Yondu tries to imitate Stakar and go for a little space walk without a suit on, Martinex finds himself waiting for the doc’s word on whether or not his lungs are gonna recover in a pretty damn cramped room with the now couple years seasoned Guardians of the Galaxy, and the six Flames who  _ hadn’t _ been in a fight with a celestial.

Well, at least not recently. Who knew what Stakar and Aleta had done in the several millennia prior to deciding to devote their time to a pirate empire. 

Everyone is nervous, and anxious, and about half are probably some shade of  _ mad _ enough to start fighting if they weren’t all so worried. 

Kraglin’s got the freshly re-wielded yaka arrow and is turning it over and over in his hands, the half-worlder is assembling  _ d’ast _ -knows-what, several people are cleaning weapons, Stakar and Aleta are leaned together in quiet conversation and their hands are locked together, Peter Quill is sitting between Kraglin and Martinex and staring at the little piece of Terran tech he was holding, and Martinex-

Well, he’s got his keyring out and is flipping them over his fingers. No one’s told him to stop with the little clicking sounds yet, and the silent mantra of  _ m-ship, bunk, Stakar’s bunk, emergency panel a, emergency panel b, ring I got off John, extra m-ship key in case the first is broke and the panel gets fried, special kit cabinet in medical- _

Martinex blinks when fleshy pink fingers stop him on the next one. It’s an old, battered ring and chain that’s had to be fixed a couple times because it’s been on there for about two decades now, and hanging off it is a grey sphere with a few chinks and scuffs from getting dropped. He looks up, and Peter is staring at the orb.

“I didn’t… it never occurred to me that you might still  _ have _ that.” He says, low and quiet, trying to not get overheard by everyone in the near-silent waiting room.

“Never took it off.” Martinex thumbs at the chain. He glances up to see Charlie watching him from across the way, where he and Mainframe and Krugarr have some sort of card game started, curious. Martinex nudges Peter and nods at the Jovian. “You outta consider getting Charlie a Jupiter, though. Family and all.”

Peter’s eyes go wide, and he glances between Martinex and Charlie, before he gives the first tiny hint of a smile after everything went to hell.

By the end of the next Xandarian month, Charlie’s got himself a pretty little sphere of his own with a thin band poking out around it, and Martinex quietly gets an Earth like the one Peter still has crammed into a bag somewhere. That one he takes to a quiet grave on Haven, and hangs it on the small stone carving of a flame that rests over a long buried set of ashes.

Seventh flame still has a chance of dying; but now the record marks a return from exile too. So it ain’t all bad.

Plus, Martinex can call himself an uncle officially now. That’s pretty neat.)

Maybe they won’t talk to Yondu again, sure: just because Stakar hadn’t decided to actually carry the fight beyond words and seemed to think that, for now at least, Peter Quill was fine with the former 99th Clan didn’t mean that Yondu was anywhere close to in his good graces. 

But they haven’t in the last decade named another seventh Flame. Martinex thought that was for the best- being seventh came with a current fifty-fifty shot of either being killed or exiled- but it was a start. 

And in this line of business, Martinex thought, a start was all you could hope for.

  
  



End file.
